Michael Moore, talking to Keith Olbermann, discusses the possibility that a hurricane during the GOP convention might prove the existence of God, and suggests that women who are happy with Sarah Palin's being part of the GOP ticket this year are "dumb."

This reminds me why I don't go out of my way to watch television; I don't think it would do much to improve my blood pressure.

But having subjected myself to a few minutes of Michael Moore's idiocy leaves me counting the days until An American Carol comes out.

(Cross-posted at Right-Wing News.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:38 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 109 words, total size 1 kb.

Stole it from AllahP.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:41 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 14 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . is "too close to New Orleans"?

Please discuss.

UPDATE:

I'm glad they can't revoke your soul for tryin'--watch Bobbie flub a line, here:

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:40 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 36 words, total size 1 kb.

So, A the H and I saw The Dark Knight yesterday. This is a movie in which:

• We didn't get to see Heath Ledger without any makeup on. That was sad.

• I liked Heath Ledger despite my (doubtless somewhat Electral) crush on Jack Nicholson, and though I haven't read enough comic books to discuss fidelity to any of the original sources, I feel Ledger really nailed a certain type of psychopathic / sociopathic personality, here. So, yes: I'd still dig it, even if the film hadn't turned into his swan song.

• Christian Bale doesn't take his shirt off enough.

• Aaron Eckhart doesn't take his shirt off nearly enough.

• There is, in fact, a certain paucity of shirtless scenes.

• Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman both have that sort of timeless, Sean Connery-esque quality wherein one doesn't precisely want to do them (I'm not that Electral), but sort of sit at their feet and listen to them talk in Those Voices—all freakin' day long.

Not so much "may I give you a blowjob, Sir?" but more like "may I get you a drink? Some ice cream? Pictures of my younger sister naked? Candy? The dead bodies of my neighbors, stacked up in the corner with a light dusting of lime on 'em? Watermelon cubes? What's your pleasure?"

Whatever it would take for them to keep talking in those amazing, dulcet tones until they just went hoarse.

I'd be digging through my books, finding the poetry I thought was best-suited to each of them. "Here. Read this. Oh, and here are the deeds to my husband's, my brother's, and my mother's assets, since I don't have any of my own. Just keep talking."

You know how it is with those fucking older actors—including James Earl Jones, minus the Star Wars roles (because I'm not quite that kinky): the first few readings are free. After that, you have to pay. I'm just not clear yet on what the price is.

* * *

It could be that communicating with me is just as, um, refreshingly challenging with me as it is with my mother. Like doing a crossword puzzle without having to wear down your #2 pencil.

Joy: "I'm as amazed as everyone else by what Heath Ledger accomplished, but I also thought that whathisface did a great job as well."

A the H: "Christian Bale."

Joy: "And, you know, I'm always happy to see whatshisotherface in any movie; how many have they done together at this point?"

A the H: "Right: Michael Caine. Well, there was The Prestige, and Batman Begins. And this one, of course. I think it's only three."

Joy: "He hasn't changed at all since Sleuth."

A the H: "I'm not so sure about that."

Joy: "Oh, like we're a couple of spring chickens."

A the H: "Hm. Who was the first guy to play Batman?

Joy (startled, because she's not used to answering pop-culture questions that don't have to do with James Thurber, obscure poetry, or Franco Zefirelli's version of Romeo and Juliet.): "Okay. On the TV series with the great theme that my mom rarely let us watch, it was Adam West. Michael Keaton did it in a feature or two, a movie-series or two ago, and the pick was controversial because some people thought, for crying out loud, that he didn't have the right jaw for the part.

"And I believe Val Kilmer played Batman it at least once, and I sure hope they didn't complain about his jaw, since I don't think the whole thing fits into the state of California, at least from side to side—as I recall, they have to film Kilmer so his face is parallel to the ocean, or one side of his jawbone pokes into Nevada or Arizona."

A the H: "Not bad. I mean, the number of actors—not the overwrought metaphor."

Joy: "Even in my senility, I can occasionally crank out a factoid or two. But the best Val Kilmer movie was Heat. Agreed?"

A the H: "Oh, yeah. Best shootout ever."

Joy: "And bitchinest characterizations in a crime movie ever. Though remember that one little character discontinuity in Heat? Did I ever tell you about that one?"

A the H: "Countless times. Oh, please: don't start. Not tonight."

Joy: "So I'm right about that."

A the H: "No. Not even a little bit right. No."

So, there you have it: one never knows when I will or will not be able to recall proper nouns without a little help. And there was one small problematic characterization in Heat—something just tad inconsistent.

Remember? The history books are written by the victors.

And the victors are the ones who never give up.

There is one person who can get Mandy—and other terrier-types of dog—let go of a favorite toy or tennis ball. That person is me. I've never seen anyone else do it, unless they had a golf club and hit the dog over the head until he or she relinquished the toy. Not necessary. And not easy, anyway, give the pit bull's famous/infamous pain tolerance.

There's a trick. I know it. Mandy won't admit it, but I'm the Dominant Dog in the relationship. Sure: she's powerful, and if she's feeling frisky and threatening to break out on her own for a bit of a romp, I will give the leash to my mother, because that extra 80-100 pounds helps. One is, after all, up against the laws of physics, and in order to keep her in one place I have to have the right kind of leash and lie down on my tummy, which is not the right message to send to a teenaged pit bull.

But if i have the tennis ball and I want to keep it, the Jaws of Death don't stop me. She respects that.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:40 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 987 words, total size 6 kb.

1 In which case, we might as well hang up the white flag, because from where I'm standing the history books are written by the academics and God help you all, your academics are mostly left-leaning... Plus, Batman is gay. And, Heath Ledger is dead. Necrophiliac. /troll /me offers valium-laced prime USDA-approved rump steak to dog. There. Job done. (Tilting at windmills? I'd send sappers in and blow the suckers sky high. Take that, Don Quixote!)

Posted by: Gregory at August 25, 2008 11:14 PM (cjwF0)

2 Well, a woman might be able to pull that off. Mandy remains skeptical about men. She has to be reintroduced to my brother, my older nephew, and my husband every time she sees 'em. Not/i> my cousins (two generatoins of 'em) that she's known sinc ehe was a pup. But most full-grown men? She needs reminding. That is to say, good luck with your poisoned hamburger. The gamble is something like this: do you want to feed her hamburger? Or end up as same? Choose carefully. I actually love this. I'm still 30-40 minutes away from The Mom, but between Mandy, my old Chief's Special revolver, and my mother's iron-clad will, there's a lot less to worry about than with the average 71 year-old maternal unit. Still trying to get her to move closer, though: wish me luck. The meds are keeping strokes and heart attacks at bay, and G-d knows her mom survived a number of both. But I worry, of course. Still, it's nice to know that home intruders aren't on the list. Hell: when I go over, I talk to her through the mailbox slot for a few minutes. "Hi, Sweetie-Girl. I'm a burglar. I'm here to steal everthing. Have you been a good girl?" By the time I open the door she can barely contain her excitement, and I have to remind her that jumping on people is not Approved Behavior. So she wags her tail and goes to look for a dog toy she can express her happiness with.

Posted by: Attila Girl at August 26, 2008 01:02 AM (TpmQk)

3 I take it you had Happy Hour? For several hours? And maybe it was Ladies' Night? btw, you gonna do a post on Chris' bleg? Cause you probably have about 100x the number of readers I do...

Posted by: Gregory at August 26, 2008 01:44 AM (cjwF0)

4 I thought I did. Do I have to rebuild this freakin' site again?

Posted by: Attila Girl at August 26, 2008 01:56 AM (TpmQk)

5 Oh, man. I did one, and it's freakin' lost. It was brilliant. It was extraordinary. It had that quality that all blogposts have, once they've been eaten up by MT or one's browser: the hint that they could have, applied properly, truly brought the blogger immortality. So I'll throw one up tomorrow, after I get a bit of sleep. Anyway, shouldn't you be nagging King Moron about this? I mean, he has a readership. I just have fans who like me for my verboseness and/or my breasts.

Posted by: Attila Girl at August 26, 2008 02:20 AM (TpmQk)

6 Jeremy Irons. I would give up not one but BOTH my kidneys to hear him read the tax code. Twice. RG

Posted by: RightGirl at August 26, 2008 04:25 PM (dizBt)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

How could I have considered leaving her for Suzi Quatro? I must have been drunk last night.

The thing about Shivaree is, you listen to the song—it's melodious and sweet with just a bit of a sinister undertone.

Then you watch the video, and you see that the composition was, from the beginning, a lot darker than you realized.

Ms. Waldorf Salad sort of scares me. But . . . in the good way. I mean, this is sick and disgusting . . . and yet. And yet.

As Martin G. once said about the Wicked Witch in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe . . . "I'll take two."

Thanks to Professor Purkinje for creating, as he once put it when the hiking boot was on the other foot: "a major rupture in my musical tastes."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:39 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 148 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . when you can't find work digging ditches.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:41 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 28 words, total size 1 kb.

Still on-schedule to open October 3rd. Be there, or be hexagonal.

The Variety write-up:

Vivendi Entertainment has picked up North American rights to David Zucker's new comedy "An American Carol" and will release it in the fall.
Pic tracks a cynical, anti-American filmmaker who sets out on a crusade to abolish the July Fourth holiday. He is visited by three ghosts who try to show him the true meaning of America.

Directed, produced and written by Zucker, known as one of the masterminds of the "Airplane!" and "Naked Gun" franchises, the pic is also produced by Mpower's Stephen McEveety and John Shepherd.

The cast includes Kevin Farley ("Monk") as the filmmaker, plus Kelsey Grammer, Leslie Nielsen, Dennis Hopper, James Woods and Jon Voight.

Lewis Friedman and Myrna Sokoloff co-wrote the script.

There's a great article by Stephen F. Hayes in The Weekly Standard about the An American Carol, which may serve as a "coming out party" for some of Hollywood's closeted [and semi-closeted] conservatives. (Those who are not action heroes like Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger, and therefore aren't in a position to tell the H-wood establishment to "go fish"—though even Willis couldn't get a movie made based on Michael Yon's writing about Deuce Four. Yet. If Zucker and Company can end the blacklist on those who support the War on Terror—or at least diminish its power—that could change.)

Hayes:

I spoke to Lee Reynolds, who plays the New York police officer whose efforts to search the terrorists are thwarted by the ACLU. Reynolds, too, is a conservative--something David Zucker did not know when he cast Reynolds in the anti-Kerry ad he produced in 2004. Reynolds was active duty military for 12 years and shortly after 9/11 worked as the chief media officer for detainee operations at Guantánamo Bay, Cuba.

When he returned, he took a job as a production assistant on a film--he asked me not to name it--shot in several locations across the United States. Reynolds worked hard and, he says, won the confidence of the film's directors, who gave him more responsibility. But just as he was making a name for himself, word began to spread that he had been in the military and, far worse, that he supported the efforts of his uniformed colleagues in the war on terror.

"Once they found out I was a Republican, unfortunately for some people it was a problem," he recalls. Several people who had talked to him regularly throughout the shoot simply stopped. And a trip that he was to have taken to participate in an offsite shoot across the country was abruptly cancelled. Another person was sent in his place. Reynolds says that he had only two colleagues who treated him the same way they had before, including "an anti-Bush lesbian" who was disgusted by the dogmatism of the others on the film. Reynolds, now a reservist, is scheduled to leave for Iraq in early 2009. The more Zucker is known as a conservative, the more frequently he has encounters with others who consider themselves conservative.

On one of the days I was on set, McEveety had invited Vivendi Entertainment president Tom O'Malley to meet Zucker. Vivendi had just agreed to distribute the film and had promised wide release--news that had the cast and crew of An American Carol in particularly good spirits.

O'Malley and Zucker chatted about the fact that O'Malley is the nephew of Candid Camera's Tom O'Malley and that they are both from the Midwest, among other things. Zucker thanked him for picking up the movie, which will be one of the first for Vivendi's new distribution arm. O'Malley told Zucker that he was particularly interested in this film in part because he, too, leans right.

Such revelations are common occurrences at the periodic meetings of the secret society of Hollywood conservatives known as the "Friends of Abe" ["Lincoln, not Vigoda," as the Standard article points out elsewhere]. The group, with no official membership list and no formal mission, has been meeting under the leadership of Gary Sinise (CSI New York, Forrest Gump) for four years. Zucker had spent a year working on a film with Christopher McDonald without learning anything about his politics. Shortly after the film wrapped, he ran into McDonald, best known as Shooter McGavin from Adam Sandler's Happy Gilmore, at one of these informal meetings.

"It's almost like people who are gay, show up at the baths and say, 'Oh, I didn't know you were gay!' " Zucker says.

h/t: About a week and a half ago, Ace of Spades quoted extensively from the Standard article, playing up the "blacklist" angle. I would have linked him then, but he uses too many dirty words.

Actually, it was—and is—a sensitive subject around here. I would hate to count up how many media jobs I've failed to get because people were able to figure out that I was right-of-center. And I'm sure my husband has lost out on entertainment jobs for the same reason, though as an improv actor and comedian he's a bit quicker on his feet, and is much better at "the Los Angeles tapdance," wherein one is confronted with some sort of remark about how evil G.W. Bush is, or how the War in Iraq is just "making us more enemies," and one is sort of forced to smile brightly and change the subject.

It never fools people when I do it, and I'll bet that even A the H hasn't managed a 100% success rate in hiding his convictions.

A conservative estimate would probably suggest that we've lost tens of thousands of dollars to the prejudice. The true figure is probably in the hundreds of thousands.

Yes, yes: I've spoken with Joel Surnow of 24, and I know he doesn't believe in the blacklist. He's all, like, "if you're a good writer, you'll make it." But, again: his genre is action, and the rules are more flexible for action TV/features. There's that whole "Clint Eastwood" excuse that people make to themselves: "well, if they work on that sort of project, it probably warps their thinking; they begin to see things in black-and-white after a while. Can't help themselves, the endearing little money-makers."

Support alternative points of view in the entertainment industry. End of lecture, for now.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:06 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 1043 words, total size 7 kb.

. . . of the latest Nine-Inch Nails tour over at WSJ.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:32 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 18 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . who is now in serious condition after a car accident.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 02:25 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 21 words, total size 1 kb.

In Hollywood, of course.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 02:32 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 10 words, total size 1 kb.

The bad news: the $50 iTunes gift certificate my sister-in-law got me a year and a half ago for Christmas has run out, and I now have to spend Actual Money for my music (other than physical albums, which I still buy because I like to go on musical journeys while I drive: full-on LPs albums; complete works).

The good news: Scars on Broadway is now available, so I was able to snag the non-radio version of "They Say," which is real rock and roll—it could fit into any decade. (I know: a bit nihilist, so perhaps the 1980s would be a better fit for it, vs. The Pepsi Generation.) But it does rawk.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:24 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 124 words, total size 1 kb.

Danny Barer has a review up of the latest Batman movie. I simply haven't heard anything but accolades about Heath Ledger's take on The Joker, and I may have to actually break a couple of my personal rules soon by

(1) leaving the house, other than to go to Ralph's or get my meds refilled; and

(2) seeing a movie before it comes out on DVD, which entails . . . well, (1).

In fact, we may have to actually either start going to The Cinema again, or break down and buy ourselves a relatively up-to-date television set. The one we are using now is hooked up to cable, but doesn't have a DVD player (it's the one that resided in my den at the house in La Canada).

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:58 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 141 words, total size 1 kb.

I can't figure out where Peter Gabriel was going with this.

Can anyone decipher that one?

It's just . . . opaque.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:36 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 36 words, total size 1 kb.

1 This is clearly a variant of the Incomprehensible Englishman syndrome first identified in 1968 with the release of Procul Harum's Whiter Shade of Pale. The symptoms are a state of cognitive disassociation and confusion followed by regret for having wasted valuable time listening, sometimes repeatedly, to musical doggerel with no sense, meaning or hook. In Mr. Gabriel’s case it is less a case of what the fuck is he saying as why the fuck is he saying it. It is similar to Incomprehensible Welshman Syndrome associated with Dylan Thomas (Not to be confused with Incomprehensible Bob Dylan Syndrome, a whole different and deeper kettle of fish!), Incomprehensible Irishmen Syndrome which spans a spectrum of disciplines, personalities and genres too numerous for citation and Incomprehensible Scotsman Syndrome which includes all Scotsmen regardless of age or gender and their apparel or lack there of. Currently the only population of the British Islands free of the curse appears to be the Manx although this may be because no one knows they exist although examples have been known to mutter a kind of Gaelic pig Latin and claim it was intelligible speech. In all cases it is a matter of actions that at first, second and third glance appear foolish, followed by an opening of the mouth and speaking words that proves the point. Without parsing Mr. Gabriel's words too closely he is apparently suggesting we jump in the water and kiss a somewhat anthropomorphic frog. The frog seems to retain memories and sense of identity from a past existence as a high-caste human judging by his references to royal blood while exhibiting the outward characteristics of the familiar amphibian: webbed feet, slimy skin and large bulbous eyes positioned on top of a large primitive skull. Of course this describes the current royal family as well, although I doubt that if you found one lying in a pond you'd be inclined to kiss it or even lick its back for the dubious pleasure of the psychedelic kick you could achieve by ingesting their mucosa. The literature (Herder's Symbol Dictionary, The Golden Bough, etc. see also my Wikipedia entry) is clear the frog is a transitive creature associated with re-birth and resurrection as is just about everything else in ancient myth and legend. Mr. Gabriel has obviously visited the Royal Mausoleum at Frogmore one too many times and identifies with Albert the Prince Consort of Saxe-Cogberg-Gotha whom he styles a “Frog Prince” and thus worthy of re-birth and the mantle of hero as Joseph Campbell and other intellectual frauds have maundered about. Or he has heard "Froggy goes a Courtin" and decided to pep it up a bit and failed. I hope this answers your question.

Posted by: Sejanus at May 24, 2008 11:40 AM (3xlLF)

2 Wikipedia entry on you, or on froggies?

Posted by: Attila Girl at May 24, 2008 06:43 PM (Hgnbj)

3 I am sorry. You are completely right, I misunderstood the question. I meant to respond to the question of whether Henry and Clover Adams were at least as influential as Gomez and Morticia, but I digress.

Posted by: Sejanus at May 25, 2008 12:48 AM (3xlLF)

4 Dick Cheney, through common ancestry with Henry Squires, is part of that Adams political family. As are Millard Fillmore, William Howard Taft, and Calvin Coolidge. And shouldn't we start with Samuel and Mary Fifield Adams (parents of Sam Adams), or even further back, rather than Henry and Clover (183 ? And is it true that Henry suffered a stroke upon learning of the sinking of the Titanic because he had tickets for the return trip from the US to Europe? Were they nonrefundable?

Posted by: Darrell at May 25, 2008 11:18 AM (jve07)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Stephen Green was buying this, too. And now AllahP at Hot Air. What is wrong with people?

Parody. Get it? It's like when Sheryl Crow wrote about using a single square of toilet paper when she pees, and people took her seriously.

Sheesh. Just because someone works in L.A. does not make him/her dumb as a board. (Unless we are discussing a studio exec, of course. Those people are stupid.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:20 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 78 words, total size 1 kb.

These are the people who distributed Mine Your Own Business and The Singing Revolution—and helped Evan Coyne Maloney's Indoctrinate U gain a lot more traction than it otherwise would have.

Here's an interview by Sonny Bunch at DoubleThink that discusses the new short, and also gives some more background on MPI, one of the most professional indie production companies around (and certainly the most libertarian-minded).

Harrison Bergeron is a terrific story all by itself, vaguely reminiscent of Brad Bird's The Incredibles. (Well. I mean that the other way around, of course. It's just that the last two times I watched The Incredibles I couldn't remember what it was tickling in the back of my brain. And now I know. "If everybody's special, then nobody's special." Uh-huh.)

The MPI version is supposedly going to be the best adaptation of the story ever, though I thought the 1995 production with Sean Astin, Eugene Levy, et al. was nicely done. I do like the fact that MPI will be changing the name, since I've always had a mental block about it. (The reasoning? The Vonnegut fans will watch it anyway. And Harrison Bergeron is hard to spell. Yup.)

Anyway, keep a lookout; it's always going to be hard to find a screening of a short movie like this; I do hope it'll be out on DVD at some point. And I hope it brings the crew at MPI to a new level.

MPI: Call Bruce Willis and Michael Yon. They might have an idea for you to kick around . . . something about an outfit called Deuce Four, as I recall.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:41 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 287 words, total size 2 kb.

. . . has one data point—if that—in common with this one.

Via Althouse, who clearly has Radar Love on hers. Now we're talking.

Mine will have a fast segment and a slow segment ("Hijera," by Joni Mitchell; "Fast Car," by Tracy Chapman; "True," Concrete Blonde).

I mean, I'm not adverse to rocking out, and I don't mind if the title or chorus is "on the nose" in the lyrics department. For instance, "Life in the Fast Lane" is not out of the question. But "R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A."? Puhleeze. If you want musical junk food, why not something like "Ballroom Blitz"?

Or maybe something that reminds you to get liquored up for the Road? Try "Red Wine and Whiskey."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:11 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 130 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . bad Clint Eastwood movies without mentioning Pink Cadillac. Unless, of course, "Dirty Harry" is planning one more post on the subject of Eastwood dazzlers and disgraces, labeling it "The Middle Five—Ugliest—Clint Eastwood Movies," or some such. Certainly In the Line of Fire was fairly forgettable, as was Blood Work (a lackluster movie based on a reasonably cool book).

Naturally, I disagree with D.H. on at least two of his choices: Mystic River, and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. But I don't think I've seen anything like the entire Eastwood canon.

What constitutes "good," though? Is it about creating something thought-provoking, or is it simply about wish-fulfillment: Eastwood in cowboy boots and a serape, waving guns around so men can identify with him and women can ogle him?—vice versa for gay men and female gun nuts?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 02:06 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 155 words, total size 1 kb.

is watchin' TV so I don't have to. (Actually, I couldn't bear more than 15-20 seconds of most of these clips, even if my computer were in the mood to let me have any more, which it isn't).

I'm a bit torn on The View. Partly, I'm gratified and surprised that there is one classical liberal / libertarian / center-right voice on that show. Partly, I'm disappointed to see yet another roundtable with one! count them! one! conservative voice; shades of the Sunday political talk shows with a cast of thousands of liberals—but also, George Will!

Actually, the few times I've seen that show, I've liked Goldberg, even though I don't agree with her very much. I haven't liked her as an Oscar host at all, but I dig nearly everything else she does.

And I know everyone is going to get mad at me, but that scene in The Player that has her twirling a tampon around in the Pasadena PD office? Fucking genius.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:39 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 175 words, total size 1 kb.

Why not? They did a fine job, and got some help at the end.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:55 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 22 words, total size 1 kb.

Remember that you want to either sign up for a local screening of Indoctrinate U, or buy the DVD. Or both!

And not just because Evan Coyne Maloney is that cerebral kind of good-looking.

(Yeah, yeah: I'm the one that once dubbed him "the thinking teeny-bopper's heartthrob." It got me an Instalanche, and a nice "aw, shucks" sort of note from Evan, whom I've been running into at Libertas-related events for years now; oddly, he never forgets which blog I write for. Of course, I've heard some MSM people try to use Maloney's looks against him, as if the actors and actresses they fawn over weren't often attractive as well . . . the whole thing is quite maddening, of course.)

The fact is, moviemaking costs are going down every year, and the monopoly enjoyed by my friends in the entertainment industry is slipping away even as we speak.

Meditate on that one, studio execs. And have a nice day.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 170 words, total size 1 kb.